


The Road to Qarinus

by Nessa_T



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Angst, Blood Magic, Dorian in a straight marriage, Dorian lost his memories and is now married, M/M, Mind Control, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-14 16:33:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13011753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nessa_T/pseuds/Nessa_T
Summary: Dorian leaves Iron Bull at Skyhold, returning to Tevinter after defeating Corypheus - promising his Amatus that he'll write daily. Unfortunately, Dorian was intercepted by his Father's Venatori mercenaries. Halward completes the blood ritual, wiping all of Dorian's memories - including those he had of Bull.





	The Road to Qarinus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DragonBandit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonBandit/gifts).



> I loved this prompt. It fit in perfectly with my existing fic, [Whispers in the Dark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10581288) so this will be the 9th Chapter of the series. :P It can also function as a standalone. 
> 
> Prompt:
> 
> Dorian's father completes the blood ritual, and it works.
> 
> Angst alllll the anggggssssst. (And then maybe a happy ending because I'm an absolute sucker for hurt comfort)

**_Dorian Pavus_ **

_~ 9:43 Dragon, Spring, The Return to Qarinus ~_

A storm must be brewing in the horizon. The ship swayed and surged in the choppy seas as young Pavus found himself violently ill in the privacy of his cabin. The decorations in his narrow space were gaudy and yet ostentatious - the best gold could buy on this Maker-forsaken vessel. Canopied bed, plush pillows, hanging chandeliers and a fiery red carpet with gold trimmings. Definitely Antivan.

None of those mattered. Dorian plodded across his room barefooted, his stomach lurching each time he swayed. His meals were left largely untouched - mostly dry meat with a sloppy mess of vegetables on the side. He felt himself turning green, and hastily reached out for the bottle of sweet wine he had ordered. He brought it to his lips and took a long, satisfying pull, relishing the warmth that had settled in his belly.

He would be arriving in Tevinter soon. The latest message from the captain said they’d be arriving at the port of Minrathous in a few hours or so. The servants had been generously plying him with bottles of fine wine to pass his time - sweet to the tongue with a slight bitter aftertaste. The alcohol dulled his senses a little, but it was perfect.

Anything to take his mind off his situation… and the blasted heaving of the sea.

A letter stood by his bedside, read so many times that the ink had started to smudge and the paper frayed at the edges. Bull’s handwriting left something to be desired - bold, blocky, the letters huddling so closely together it almost appeared as if they were sharing secrets on the page.

The message was simple, to the point and, as usual, a little inappropriate.

_"Kadan,_

_Stay safe. Stay alert. Write me when you get there._

_Yours in so many different positions,_

_Your Amatus."_

Dorian smiled - the first real smile he had shown in days since his sea voyage. It had not been easy leaving Bull back at Skyhold, but Tevinter called to him. Mae had sent a strongly worded letter about facing his responsibilities, changing the world and all that rot. Fine.

Saying no to Mae was like saying "no" to the Maker himself - so, Dorian had no choice but to go. Bull remained stoically silent when Dorian had broken the news. He remembered pacing nervously across their shared chambers, almost stuttering as he explained why he had to leave. It was difficult. They've spent so much time together it was hard for Dorian to imagine going anywhere without Bull by his side.

It was not until Bull pulled Dorian into his arms that he realised that he was shaking and his hands had turned cold from stress. Bull was good like that. He just knew what to do when Dorian was slowly falling apart under his watchful eye. There had been hugs and kisses (and a lot of sex) after the news, and Bull had simply promised that he would send letters everyday, waiting for Dorian's return back to Skyhold.

So here he was, alone and sick, on a creaking wooden mess, floating closer towards his birth home, and further away from his _Amatus_. It evoked an odd feeling that left a tight knot in his chest - a mixture of hope and fear, happiness and sorrow.

The ship lurched again. Dorian felt himself turning green once more, and tried to take another swig of his bottle. It was empty. How much had he drunk? He glanced at the two empty bottles on his table.

'Well,' he thought with a wry smile, 'not nearly enough!'

He contemplated calling for more drinks into his cabin before he heard a hesitant tap on his door. A young servant boy stood at the entrance, bringing more wine in a goblet, some dried fruits and a cheese platter. Dorian was grateful for the offerings - those were the only food he reckoned he could stomach anyway.

"For you, Lord Pavus, ser. Ship's arriving at the Port of Minrathous within the hour, mi'lord Pavus, ser," he squeaked, handing Dorian his tray before scuttling off.

"Twitchy little thing, isn't he?" Dorian declared into the emptiness of the room before turning his interest towards his drink. He took a cautious sniff, found its contents to be satisfactory, then drank greedily till the last drop.

It was not till his third piece of cheese that he began to feel the first onset of the inevitable headache that escalated into an excruciating pulse behind his eyes. Dorian staggered as his vision swam before him, and then his knees buckled, and he fell forward onto the carpeted floor - motionless but still very much conscious.

It was an odd sensation - to be fully aware of his surroundings and yet immobilised.

" _Typical_ ," he thought. His face was turned towards the door of his cabin, and he felt as if his little heart had sunk into the watery darkness beneath him.

As footsteps approached his cabin seemingly hours later, he wanted to scream and shout.

_"Not like this!"_

The door creaked open, and a well-polished pair of boots appeared, making their way slowly towards him. Then there were more pairs of shoes, and the alarm in his head roared like a tempest in a storm.

" _Don't touch me_ ," he tried say, but the words in his mouth turned to dust and he remained helplessly silent like a graveyard.

"Don't hurt him," his father said. Dorian felt strong, cruel hands digging into his arm as they tried to lift him off the floor.

" _Don't fucking touch me!_ "

Someone chuckled as they tossed him unceremoniously onto his bed.

"A little too late for any show of concern, Magister."

Dorian heard the frown in Halward's voice.

"Do _not_ hurt him," came the steely response. His father's voice trembled. Was it fear perhaps? Regret? A little bit of both? Dorian didn't know. As the men rolled up the sleeves on Dorian's robe, he stared straight up into the ceiling above and watched as the chandeliers swung back and forth. Back and forth.

" _Typical_ ," Dorian wanted to say again, and felt tears build up at the corners of his eyes and trickled down, unbidden, into the pillows.

A warm thumb traced the tracks they made, as if in apology.

"Someone left a letter, Magister," came another voice. There was another low chuckle again, as they read out its contents - voice full of mockery. "Seems he has left a lover back in Ferelden."

"Be quiet," Halward hissed, his voice dripping with venom. Dorian felt the hand resting on his forehead shake.

More laughter and then the soft, almost comforting sound of a fire crackling as a piece of paper was burned to nothingness.

"Of course, Magister. You did pay us to do a job after all.”

Dorian heard his father take deep, steadying breaths.

Then the ritual began, and he remembered no more - his world torn asunder, his very soul forced to flee, seeking refuge in the deep, secret recesses of his shackled mind.

***

**_Livia Herathinos_ **

_~ 9:43 Dragon, Summer, The Magister’s Son ~_

Dorian Pavus had always been the boy with a huge chip on his shoulder, and a complete beast towards his peers. He struts around, confident in his cleverness and his abilities, turning his nose up at boys and girls less privileged and less clever than he was.

At least that was the story that had circulated around the circle. Livia was only six years of age when the young Pavus had created such a huge ruckus and had gotten himself expelled as a result. She shook her head and buried her nose into her books when her parents had first told her about it.

“Is this the boy you’d have me marry?” she’d asked, her eyes never leaving the pages in her hands.

“It’s tradition, Livvy,” Mother said.

“He’s a very clever boy, Livvy. Almost as clever as you are!” Father piped in.

“He’s handsome, Leafy,” her twin brother, Rilineus, said with a lisp.

“It’s madness. I won’t marry such a child,” she had scoffed, tossing her book aside before tugging at her brother’s hands to play in the gardens.

That, as far as she was concerned, was that.

Ten years later, Livia had met Dorian for the first time at a ball. It might have been one of their many relatives’ birthday celebrations, or something. Livia hadn’t really cared. Apparently, Dorian hadn’t either as he spent most of the evening steadily making his way through several glasses of the house’s best wine, making small talk with Rilineus.

“Wonderful. A child and a drunkard,” she had thought to herself while both her parents and Dorian’s attempted to make introductions.

As chance would have it, Dorian had taken that exact moment to look up from the rim of his glass as if he had heard her. Their eyes met, eyebrows raised simultaneously, and they had then proceeded to ignore each other for the rest of the day.

Dorian, according to rumours, had thought that she was too uptight, rigid and had an unpleasant, sour expression perpetually plastered onto her face - like she was sucking on lemons the whole day. Livia had, of course, refused to dignify the insult with a response, opting instead to say it was beneath her to trade words with a man so unteachable, no tutor wanted him.

It was a low blow, perhaps, but Dorian had steadfastly avoided her presence whenever they chance to meet at various other locations.

Years passed, and Livia dreaded her impending marriage into the Pavus family. Her betrothed ignored all calls to return to Qarinus, disappearing for months on end before eventually making his way down towards Ferelden to fight in a war brewing in the South.

“What a strange person he is,” Rilineus said one night as they sat on their patio, nursing their brandy.

“Indeed,” Livia responded dryly. “You knew him better than I did. I’d have to trust your judgement on his character.”

Rilineus made some mention once again about the war in the South, but Livia’s mind had wandered by then. It was really none of her business what Dorian wanted to do with his life.

Then, just as suddenly as Dorian had disappeared, he reappeared again in Qarinus. This time, the man she saw was a shadow of his previous self. He was thin, gaunt and had such a haunted expression upon his face that she could not help but feel sympathy for the man.

“He fell ill on the sea voyage home, Livvy,” Mother whispered when they dropped by for a visit at the Pavus’ estate. “Poor boy lost his memories. Won’t stop throwing up blood.”

On some days, there had been terrible yells coming from the bedroom as Dorian burned like a furnace in his feverish fits. When the night terrors turned violent (Dorian had stabbed one of the healers entering his chambers) Magister Halward had banished all the servants from Dorian’s sight and began personally tending to his son. No guests were allowed into the Pavus household and even Magister Tilani was turned away at the door.

Halward’s days were long and dreary, his expression dark as he shuffled in and out of his son’s bedroom. His wife, Aquinea, was curiously absent, keeping herself locked away in her room, drinking herself into oblivion. It was as if she was so anxious to chase away her personal demons, it was better to remain in a drunken stupor than living her life as the mistress of her own home.

It distressing having to sit and watch such suffering in such a powerful household. Yet, at her parents' pleas (and Magister Halward’s fervent request), Livia came by frequently to render aid however she could - mostly preparing powders and sedatives for the young master’s consumption.

It was only when Magister Halward was certain Dorian was relatively calm that Livia was allowed into his chambers. The room reeked of herbal tea and stale perspiration while Dorian trembled under a mountain of blankets and pillows, face pale as a ghost. Livia worked tirelessly by his side, taking on the duties the servants were no longer allowed to do.

Being Dorian’s nurse meant Livia had to keep vigil by his side, tending to his needs and whims. There had been the occasional tense moments and harsh words exchanged, but slowly yet surely, Dorian became fond of her company. He relished the quiet moments when they would read in silence or just… talk. About his health, about her studies, their families… about everything.

Finally, with Magister Halward’s blessings and encouragement, Livia fully established herself into the Pavus estate and took charge of running Dorian’s affairs while Magister Halward busied himself with the nation’s politics. His wife had since retreated to their winter home in Minrathous.

“Will it interest you to walk with me in the gardens tomorrow morning?” Dorian would ask almost nonchalantly whenever it was time for her to retire for the night - his pride preventing him from saying anymore, and his loneliness from saying any less.

Livia would always say yes - and when young Pavus, at his father’s urgings, asked for her hand in marriage just two months later, it seemed natural to accept the proposal.

It had been a small, private ceremony, filled with people Livia cared nothing for. Dorian was dressed in regal black with gold around his collar and cuffs, his hair artfully slicked back and his moustache waxed. Livia could not help but stare.

She stared, and stared, and for the first time, felt her heart stumbled and skipped a beat. When he looked adoringly at her with his stormy grey eyes as they exchanged their vows, she knew she loved the man.

And nothing would ever come between them.

***

**_Iron Bull_ **

_~ 9:41 to 9:42 Dragon, The Beginning ~_

The first time they had sex, Dorian had managed to claw red grooves down his back, biting so hard into Bull’s shoulder that he left marks that lingered for days. The mage had displayed interest, and so Bull had dropped hints about keeping the door open, fully expecting him to drop by for a tumble or two before they both go on their separate ways.

It suited him, being with Dorian. The mage had an insatiable appetite, and Bull was more than happy to “give him a good one”. Dorian, thankfully, was more than happy to receive and had ferociously returned whatever passion Bull had shown him between the sheets.

The best sex they had was when Dorian threw up his barriers. The mage would smile, his expression sly. “You have one minute,” Dorian would whisper, and Bull would dig his fingers into Dorian’s hips, racing to finish before the magic wore off.

It was fucking amazing.

Bull was a huge male in his prime, and sex with these humans could be a tricky thing. He always had to be careful, opting instead for his bedmates to “ride him” as it were. Bull was happy to fuck anyone, but he didn’t want to break bones or twist any joints.

Then came Dorian with his barriers and it took sex to a whole new level. Bull could, for the first time probably, be himself in bed - if only for a minute. One glorious minute of letting himself go - abandoning restraint and focusing, for once, on his own pleasures instead.

There was comfort, being with Dorian. The sex was rough. It was noisy. It was, largely, safe. And it was hot. Literally. Dorian had came the same time he did that one time, accidentally making his barriers explode and set the curtains on fire.

_Dayyyy-um._

“Let’s not do this again,” Dorian had laughed, watching the fabric go up in flames as they scampered around the room buck naked and shaky legged, trying to put out the fire. Dorian started casting some ice magic (for reasons unknown), while Bull grabbed his boot and tried to slap the shit out of burning things with it.

It was ridiculous. It was perfect. They had laughed about it till Bull almost pissed himself and Dorian had tears running down his eyes.

Sometimes, they talked. They’d lay side by side on the bed, looking up at the fucking hole in the ceiling and watched the stars. And they’d talk. About family, growing up and places they’ve been to, places they’ve never been to, and places that they _would_ like to go to.

Some conversations come easy, but Dorian balked every time they started to talk about doing things together in the future.

“ _If_ we survive all this, of course,” Dorian would end his sentences, blissfully unaware that Bull was listening hard to the word _“we”_ as he continued to chatter on happily about nothing in particular.

Bull thought about it for a long time, laying down quietly by Dorian’s side.

“Yeah, we could,” Bull responded finally, but Dorian was already fast asleep, his head on Bull’s shoulder and hand on his heart.

It was a weird moment, really. But in a good way. It kept Bull up all night and warmed him from head to foot as he listened to Dorian snoring softly by his side.

Then came the Vintiest Vint of all Vints. It was unexpected. Skyhold was in an uproar as every single able-bodied person fought for their lives. There were demons pouring from the sky, sending a sliver of unease down Bull’s spine.

And then there was Dorian - eyes narrowed, his magical fires burning like the furnaces of Seheron, standing by his side like a fucking beacon in the midst of chaos.

“Behind you,” Dorian cried out, throwing up his barrier for both of them as a red Templar charged at their direction.

“Don’t die on me now, you big lummox.”

Bull laughed and then went silent, swinging his axe at a Venatori assassin as Dorian busied himself with some demons.

“You know, Dorian,” he finally said, yelling over the sound of metal clashing against metal, “I’d die for my men once. But for you, I’d wish I’d have several lives to give.”

Dorian paused, his expression of utmost surprise before he turned red as a plum.

“Really? Now? You’d say this _now_? Right here?” he spluttered, almost going purple with embarrassment. Yet he was smiling, and his eyes were suspiciously wet.

“Yeah,” Bull said, grunting as he sunk his blade into someone’s neck. He grinned. He was having the time of his life.

“Yeah,” Bull said again, as hot blood poured over his boot. “Hey, _Kadan_ , once this is over, I’ll buy you a drink. Then we do that thing we said we wanted to do.”

“Really? Just you and me?” Dorian hollered, throwing up barriers again.

Fucking demons.

“You and me,” Bull agreed.

“We’ll talk about this back home… _Amatus_.”

They shared a secret smile and a moment together before throwing themselves fully into the raging heart of the battle - Bull leading the fight, and Dorian… his _Kadan_ …  by his side.

**_On the Road to Qarinus_ **

_~ 9:43 Dragon, Letters to Skyhold, from the borders of Minrathous ~_

_Your Worship,_

_Following our previous conversation at Skyhold, I’m writing in now to inform you that Lord Dorian Pavus has been found. It appears he was on his way towards the Port of Minrathous with a young woman, before he came under attack by the Venatori. Luckily for us, the Chargers have arrived just in time. He would be dead otherwise._

_Dorian and his friend are both hurt and almost delirious with fever. Still, with the Maker’s blessings, I am confident they will recover._

_The Chief is pleased. He hadn’t been himself since Lord Dorian disappeared from Skyhold a year ago._

_Will keep you updated._

_Yours in Service,_

_Cremisius Aclassi_

_***_

_Your Worship,_

_It appears that Dorian has no recollection of any of his time spent at Skyhold - and the woman in question is his wife._

_The Iron Bull appears to be holding out well and volunteered to accompany them to the Port to secure their return back to Qarinus - but I know him better._

_I've sent word to Magister Tilani in the mean time. We hope to be able to meet her at Vol Dorma - with Lord Pavus._

_Will you come? I fear Lord Dorian’s family may have played a role in his current “ailment”. The wife may know more than she lets on._

_Yours in Service,_

_Cremisius Aclassi_

_***_

_Cremisius,_

_I'm in contact with Magister Tilani. We will converge with Maevaris at her villa two weeks from now._

_Bring Dorian home by any means necessary._

__\- M. Trevalyan_ _

_***_

_Boss,_  
  
_I got this. See you soon._

_Horns Up._

_Bull_

 


End file.
